


Well, Fuck Me Sideways

by pilindiel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Did you know Yaku's VA is in a lot of BL games, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8612365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pilindiel/pseuds/pilindiel
Summary: Honestly, couldn't Kuroo lay off teasing him about his (incredibly obvious) crush for once?  Or, the story where Kai Nobuyuki has to stop pretending he's in love with his libero and best friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Re-uploaded from tumblr. Originally posted on 6/23/2016.
> 
> Not a lot of Kaiyaku stuff on here which is a DAMN SHAME. I hope you enjoy this incredibly self indulgent story.

The slow, undulating movements of the two people in the video now playing on his laptop, combined with their over the top gasping, makes Kai’s brows knit partly in confusion and partly in amusement.  The animation is stilted, awkward, and the facial expressions are far too overemphasized to be taken seriously.  Kai mutes the video, letting the skipping, stunted animation continue before he glances at his laptop’s camera, eyebrow raised.

“Kuroo, why did you send me hentai?”

“Please, Kai, you know me better than that,” the captain of their team responds with a over exaggerated eye-roll at the other end of the video call, pixels shifting awkwardly through Skype’s abhorrent camera feed, “It’s from a boy’s love game.”

Kai can’t help the curl of his lips. “Ah.  Then that’s totally different.  My apologies.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Kuroo sniffs indignantly, leaning back in his chair, “Just un-mute it and _**listen**_.”

Almost begrudgingly, Kai sighs and follows his captain’s instructions, gaze flicking back to the muddy animation.  “And what am I supposed to be listening _**for**_?” he wonders mildly.

Kuroo gives him a smirk, side-eying him as he happily withholds the information.  “Oh, you’ll know it when you hear it,” he replies unhelpfully, trying his best to sound nonchalant.  (It’s ruined, of course, by the intense way he’s watching Kai’s face and the way his smirk stretches wider across his face in a self-satisfying way.)  Kai suppresses the urge to roll his eyes – every video Kuroo has sent him since freshman year has been a means to try and break his carefully held composure and he doubts this is any different.  Still, the vice-captain complies with the slightest bit of amusement and his attention wanders back to the video.  Might as well indulge in Kuroo’s little game.  He has nothing better to do.

For a while, nothing happens.  Well, nothing more than what’s been happening already.  The characters kiss more, lips smacking between breathy gasps and awkward grunts.  One of the characters – the ‘sub’ as Kuroo so eloquently put it – writhes beneath his lover’s unseen hand, his desperate fingers curling tightly in the fabric of his lover’s shirt.  Their lips finally part with a lewd pop as the taller, uncomfortably larger male begins leaving open-mouthed kisses along the other’s neck.  Kai’s just about to turn the video off, bored with the lack of anything substantial, when the smaller male gasps harshly and is followed by a hushed whine, broken words tumbling from his lips.

Kai pauses, eyes widening, and takes a breath.

The voice is penetrating, sharp, and familiar.  Very familiar.   _ **Dangerously**_ familiar.  

It reminds him of sweet but biting laughter, of the bark of commands on the court and the elated cheer of joy after an exceptional receive.  It reminds him of clipped, gruff concern when they realize Kenma’s been skipping meals again and the teasing but gentle words spoken late at night when the rest of the team has gone and it’s just the two of them, two best friends alone on their walk home from school.

Though, they’ve never been just friends to Kai.

The voice is familiar enough to make Kai do a double take, knuckles turning white as his fingers tense on his knees.

“…What is this?” Kai asks thickly, struggling to keep the breathlessness out of his voice.  He knows how to mask himself, he’s done it since he was a child, but the tightness of his jaw doesn’t go unnoticed by Kuroo’s watchful eyes. Damn him.  The vice-captain shifts in his seat.  The quiet mewls and panted pleas of the smaller male are different than the laughter and praise he’s used to, but there’s a tonality to it that is too close to ignore.  Unbidden desire shivers down his spine and Kai leans back in his seat, attempting nonchalance.

“It sounds like Yakkun, right?” Kuroo purrs, grin far too malicious to be taken as anything other than teasing.  Kai can see the smugness even through the computer’s heavy pixelation and he gives Kuroo the best unamused stare he can muster.  The man in the video – chocolate brown hair and dark green eyes – cries out, sharp and needy, and Kai stills as the sound shoots heat through his veins.  Part of him pictures the squeak of sneakers on the court, a flash of bright red on white and the satisfying smack of a volleyball on skin.  

The other part imagines sandy caramel in place of chocolate and dark brown in place of green.  Kai’s stomach tenses as heat vibrates south.  His mask of calm remains, however – placid and serene – and he leans further back into his couch cushions, adjusting the laptop on his thighs to mask the way he shifts around the burning between his legs.  He gives a non-committal shrug.

“I guess,” he says as if he’s trying to analyze it in an educational way, pursing his lips the way he does when he’s working on math or history.  A difficult feat when he can so easily imagine their libero’s head thrown back in the same way, mouth parted prettily to let loose a broken moan.  A surge of something hot and feral rises within him.

The breath Kai takes is carefully, painfully controlled.

“Come on, Kai,” Kuroo replies smoothly, as if seeing the meticulous way Kai is just barely holding himself together, “You aren’t the slightest bit interested in this?”

“The animation isn’t very good,” Kai murmurs after a moment, finding ease settle in his bones as he picks apart its faults.  Analytical.  Calm.  Reserved.   _Forget the fact you have a dick at half-mast_. “Besides, we both know it’s not really Yaku, so why should - ”

“ _ **Ka -**_ ”  the panting voice in the video hiccups on the consonant sharply and Kai stills, sucking in a quick breath through his nose.  Heat shoots down to his cock so fast he feels whip-lashed by it, body tense and pulsing.  Kai is certain that the character on screen finishes his thought, followed by a gentle kiss from his lover, but it’s drowned out by the blood roaring in his ears and the press of his gradually flushing length against the constraints of his boxers.

The tenderness of the relationship on screen makes him yearn for something he’s always denied pursuing, but Kai can’t stop the way slick precum dampens the front of his underwear as Yaku’s vocal double lets out a gasp, so high pitched and desperate it’s almost a whine.  Kai clenches his jaw, eyes widening.

The tense moment is broken only by the one who subjected him to this torture, and thank goodness he tilted the screen to only show his upper torso and face – he’s not sure he could live with Kuroo knowing how hard he just got.

“Oooh?” Kuroo drawls, satisfaction dripping with each elongated syllable, “Now we’re getting somewhere.”  Kai steels himself too late and the deep, shaking breath he lets out does little to ease the tension in his muscles.

“What are you trying to prove here, Kuroo?” Kai asks, addressing the camera fully this time.  Kuroo’s smirk fades and, with a sigh, he meets Kai’s gaze.  His expression is hard, chin propped on his palm, and he gives Kai a tired look. They’ve done this song and dance before.

“When are you going to finally admit you’re in love with Yakkun?”  The affectionate nickname makes Kai’s heart flutter even now, and of course he can’t hide his small smile. He’s really hopeless.

It’s Kai’s turn to sigh.  “It’s complicated.”

Kuroo snorts, but there’s no joy to it. “You’ve said that before.”

“It’s still true,” Kai reiterates, though with considerably less force.  

“It’s still bullshit.”

Heavy silence sits between them, but both refuse to end their staring contest.  Two immovable forces, two pillars of strength, two stubborn teenagers.  It lasts for far too long, but the silence says what they could never voice, and Kai gives Kuroo a small, helpless smile. _Another time,_ it says.   _Give us some more time._

The frustration means Kuroo is the first to break away.  With a clench of his teeth he unceremoniously flops onto his back, laying on his absurd collection of cat pillows.

“He looks at you when you look away, you know,” Kuroo says with quiet finality.  Kai swallows around the fondness in his throat.

“I know.”

Kuroo props up on his elbows, eyeing Kai once more before running a hand through his hair.  “Fine,” he concedes, “I’ll let it slide this time.”  His smirk is back in full force and Kai responds to it in kind.  “But don’t think I won’t still pester you about this, Nobuyuki- _ **kun**_.  Your mutual pining is getting stupidly out of hand.”

Kai holds both hands up in a placating motion.  “Whatever you say, captain.” Smugly, Kuroo sits up, fingers stilling over his keyboard.  His eyes are alight with mischief once more, and Kai raises an eyebrow with a silent question as Kuroo’s video freezes before catching up with itself.

“Just because I won’t bother you about it,” Kuroo explains, loudly typing something, “Doesn’t mean I don’t have something planned for our mutual friend.”  He grins, Cheshire like and malicious.  Kai’s eyes go wide and he leans forward but before he can say anything, Kuroo ends the call.

Kai ignores Skype’s happy survey prompt about call quality and closes his laptop with a sigh.

Hopefully, Yaku will be able to handle Kuroo’s teasing to a better degree.  He takes a moment to breathe, hoping to ease the tension in his shoulders, but it only reminds him of more pressing matters.

His erection still pulses, still brushes his boxers just on the right side of tantalizing and the simple shift of his hips makes him groan quietly.  He can still feel the dampness of his precum and if he presses it just right -  

He thinks, maybe, that he should just leave it – watch something boring and relaxing to cause the heat pulsing through him to extinguish – but every time he blinks all he can focus on is Yaku, is that _**voice**_ , and he sinks into the couch and succumbs.

Kai’s hand flutters down, kneading his palm slowly over the bulge in his jeans and closing his eyes as he submits the desire coursing through his veins.  It’s so easy to imagine Yaku that Kai wonders how long he’s really denied himself this pleasure, how long he’s lived with dismissing the pounding of his heart and the fond warmth filling his chest when Yaku so much as looks at him.  How long has he ignored the carnal, hormonal instinct to capture Yaku’s pouting lips, to tug on those gloriously short locks, to suck endless marks into that smooth skin?  Kai shudders – thoughts of Yaku coming all too easily as his thumb flicks open the button of his pants and slowly unzips his fly, excitement shocking his system as his flushed erection dampens the tight fabric of his boxers.  His long fingers curl around his burning shaft, freeing it from his underwear with several gentle, experimental strokes.  His hips twitch sharply and Kai sucks in a breath through his teeth, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander.

He imagines Yaku beneath him, twitching with every one of Kai’s touches, cheeks flushed and chestnut eyes dark with fierce desire. In his mind, Kai leans down, capturing Yaku’s already swollen lips and sucks his tongue into his mouth, hands sliding down Yaku’s bare chest.  He _**wants**_ , God help him, he wants to taste Yaku’s kiss and breathe in the musk of his skin.  He burns to hear his name tumble brokenly from Yaku’s lips, wants to feel Yaku’s slick heat around his aching cock and watch as Yaku falls apart, layer by layer in a twitching, gasping mess.

He wants it.  He _**burns**_ for it.  Kai’s imagination runs wild, flooding his deprived brain with flashes of images he denied himself for so long.  The stretch of Yaku’s muscles beneath his hands, the feel of those hips pressed up against his and the natural roll of them that fit so perfectly with his own.  Peeling the libero’s shirt off of his lithe form and running his tongue along the curve of Yaku’s neck, burying himself in the scent and vibrations of their combined groans and gasps.  Kai’s hand slides over his cock, pictures breaking and reforming into new pleasures as he tightens his grip and hastens his speed, hips rocking into his hand.  The burning heat pools in his stomach, building and mounting and _**pulsing**_ but it’s the image of Yaku - back arching off the bed, head turned to the side, half buried in a pillow and that sharp, near whining gasp wrenching from his throat that sends Kai over the edge, spilling warmth over his hand with a low, choked moan.

Time slows and reforms as Kai takes several long moments to catch his breath, eyelids pulling heavy over his eyes.  Shame slowly creeps through the lingering effects of Kai’s high and the vice-captain closes his eyes with a frustrated groan. He scrapes his hand through his buzzed hair and leans his head back against the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling with a sated, yet minute frown.  He’s fucked.  He is _**thoroughly**_ fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr!!! pilindiel.tumblr.com


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